


Three Ways From Saturday

by elfin



Category: X-Men (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-19
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-31 07:25:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3969309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik and Charles bond over cocktails.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Three Ways From Saturday

It started, like so many good things, in the kitchen; one big enough to service a medium-sized hotel, and Erik wondered how long it had been between the Xavier family using it and this new strange family ransacking it.

Erik’s allotted bedroom was on the other side of the house to Charles’, so claiming he’d heard him get up at this ungodly hour of the night wouldn’t wash. But he’d been aware back at the CIA facility, when they’d been next door to one another, that his friend didn’t sleep well, and it was a fair bet that he’d find him up somewhere about the house. That he was in the kitchen wasn’t all that strange, but finding him at the wide oak breakfast table wearing blue and white striped pyjamas and muddling the ingredients for a fine mojito, somehow was.

Erik watched him for a few minutes, under no illusion that Charles wasn’t aware of his presence but still keeping quiet, musing on the way all of Charles’ clothes seemed to be half a size too big for him, and how such an unassuming man could wield such an incredible and potentially destructive power.

“It’s my father’s wardrobe,” Charles explained without looking up, using a teaspoon to taste the mixture in the cocktail shaker before adding another shot of rum and an extra sprig of mint. “I would never use my power to harm anyone. And I don’t think my mother ever spent more time in this room than it took to fetch ice for her vodka and tonic.”

Erik smiled, pulled his borrowed brown dressing gown closer around him and crossed the kitchen to sit on the stool on the other side of the table to where Charles was mixing.

“Make me one?”

Charles inclined his head, smiled and nodded. “That would be a pleasure. I take it sleep has eluded you too.”

“I set an alarm. I thought you might be up.”

The smile curved into a half-frown. “Why?”

“I wanted to talk to you. Not about anything specific, I just wanted to sit and chat.”

“And you felt the need to do that at a quarter to three in the morning?”

“The days are busy, the kids are always around.... I wanted you to myself.”

Charles laughed; a genuine sound. Erik liked that about him – everything he did and said was real. It was a rare trait. 

“And now you have me.” He cut a couple of small limes and dropped them into the silver shaker. “A very friendly barman in Harvard taught me how to do this. It’s a slightly different technique to the usual recipe, but it infuses the rum with the mint which is how I prefer it.”

“How friendly?” It came out harsher than he’d meant it to, but Charles just raised his eyebrows slightly and dropped his head to one side as if considering his answer.

“Not that friendly.” And it sounded reassuring.

Erik bit back the word ‘good’, not at all certain that it had any place in the conversation. What business was Charles’ personal life of his anyway?

With the lime muddled into the mint and rum, Charles added thick syrup from a small pan that had been resting on the stove. He looked as if he’d done this many, many times before as he dropped in some ice and slammed on the lid. 

“How many lucky girls have you made cocktails for, Charles?” Again, it didn’t come out as he’d intended – as a joke, just something to say. He sounded like a petulant ex-wife and decided to shut up. When Charles lifted his head, he waved away the question. “Sorry.”

Instead of talking, Erik watched him shake, watched the sparkle in his eyes and his curiosity at Erik’s presence settle on his face. He paused to fetch a second long glass from a wall-mounted cupboard, then twisted the lid off and poured the drinks, topping them both up with soda water.

Erik half-expected him to clear up, but he just pushed all the used utensils to one side of the table and set the glasses between them, pulling out a second stool and seating himself directly opposite him. 

He took a sip, then a mouthful. It was a damn good mojito.

Charles grinned. “Thank you.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “It’s rude to read someone’s mind without their permission.”

“You thought it out loud. It’s impossible not to hear it as if you’d spoken the words.”

It was exactly how Erik had been imagining it must work. “You don’t sleep much then?”

“I sleep when my body is so tired my mind can’t keep it awake.”

“Do you ever get any peace in there?”

He nodded. “We’re far enough from civilisation here that I can only pick up background from people in the house. Raven’s leant to hide her thoughts over the years, so it’s only Hank, Sean, Alex and yourself. I can block it out for the most part. It’s not other peoples’ thoughts that prevent me from sleeping, it’s my own.”

Erik wasn’t certain that he wanted to go there down that alley, so he took a long drink, set the glass on the uneven surface of the table and leaned forward. 

“Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Of course.”

“Those terrible pick up lines you use, about mutations and genetics and how ‘groovy’ they are,” he felt slightly sorry at Charles’ obvious embarrassment. “Have you ever tried any of them out on men?”

Charles glanced down, a smile playing around his lips as if he’d just had a particularly interesting theory confirmed. He swallowed half his cocktail and put his glass onto the table too, holding it between his hands. Then he raised his head and looked directly at Erik. “A couple of times, mostly in Oxford after I realised I was in fact attracted to members of my own sex.”

“Did they work?”

“Once. A nice post-graduate in Biological Sciences. We met after an evening lecture, I proposed a drink, we shared a very interesting conversation about the link between genetic make-up and sexual preferences and then we went to his rooms and spent a very fulfilling few hours discovering the pleasures of the male form.”

Erik quashed the frankly worrying jealously and tossed his head back in mock arrogance. “Details, Charles. Please.” He tried to put it jovially, but it didn’t quite work. Charles was leaning forward, and Erik instinctively did the same. 

Charles held up his hands and wiggled his fingers, seeking permission. There was a mischievous grin on his lips when he said, “I can show you, if I may?” 

Erik swallowed and nodded. Charles put two fingers to his own temple, and two to Erik’s, keeping his eyes open as he ever so gently played the highlights of that night like a movie into the forefront of Erik’s mind. 

_The door slamming. Reaching for one another’s buttons and zippers, mouths meeting, fingers finding warm skin, nervous excitement giving way to sharp arousal. A hard erection against his hand, wet mouth on his chest, inquisitive fingers sliding between his legs...._

Erik pulled back suddenly, breaking the connection, Charles’ fingers falling away.

“God.....” He picked up his drink and tipped the remainder down his throat, choking just slightly on the cloying tang of the mint.

Charles didn’t say anything, but he too took up his drink and drained the glass, looking anywhere but at Erik. 

It was like a game of chess without the board, Erik thought, and if anyone was going to make the obvious next move it was going to have to be him. He reached across the table, touched his finger tips to Charles’ jaw and directed his head up until their eyes met again. When he spoke, it was quiet, his voice low.

“I know you know what I’m feeling right now. I don’t have your advantage....” That’s all it took. Charles surprised him by suddenly and frantically pushing his glass to one side and kicking his stool over as he launched himself up onto his knees on the table top, practically on all fours as he wrapped one hand around the back of Erik’s head and slammed their mouths together. Erik heard his own glass topple as he surged up to meet him, hands clamping to Charles’ shoulders, pulling him forward, pulling him down. Somehow as he parted his lips and their tongues slid together, Charles manoeuvred himself to Erik’s side of the table, sliding his legs out from under himself, sitting hard on his ass, feet either side of Erik’s hips. Bent at the waist, his fingers in Erik’s hair, the wet kiss tumbled over and over until they found a position that suited them, a way to taste one another simultaneously so Erik could concentrate on getting his hands out of Charles’ hair and into his pyjamas.

 _You’re naked under this robe._ He heard Charles’ voice in his head and yes, that was going to prove interesting. He had no idea how to talk back so he pushed the word yes to the forefront of his mind and felt Charles laugh a little breathlessly into his mouth. May I?

_God, yes._

Charles’ nimble fingers made easy work of the knotted belt and Erik felt the cool air of the kitchen on bare skin, head to toe as Charles pushed back the sides of the gown and broke the kiss, sitting back to admire. There was no flash of pity or sorrow on his face as he reached to map Erik’s scars with certain, strong fingers. He said nothing, but leaned forward, hands on Erik’s stomach for balance as he kissed one particular line of abused flesh that cut through Erik’s right nipple.

Erik shuddered, feeling too much at once. His fingernails dug into Charles’ shoulders and suddenly all he could feel was a blazing arousal, seemingly surrounding him, coming from either of them or more likely both. Charles’ tongue traced the scar as his fingers skirted the long hard curve of Erik’s cock and he made a grinding noise in his throat, getting one hand back into Charles’ hair, pushing, pulling; not really knowing what he wanted only that it needed to be more. With his other hand he got the unbuttoned top of Charles’ pyjamas off one shoulder and stroked a path over his smooth, hard chest and taut belly to the elasticated waistband of the pyjama trousers.

The moment he dug inside and got a hold of Charles’ erection, Charles pushed his head back against the force of Erik’s hand and growled. It was a stunningly sexy sound, rough and loud and commanding. For the first time in his life, Erik found himself asking, “What do you want?” as if Charles wasn’t making it obvious enough, and the response was pushed into his mind – pure, naked honesty:

_Anything. Everything. You. Fuck. I just need to come._

Erik stood up quickly, his stool cracking against the stone floor as it fell, shrugging the gown off his shoulders as he pushed Charles’ top off and Charles wriggled out of the bottoms. Gloriously naked, Erik grabbed his ass and pulled him to the edge of the table top as he wrapped his legs around Erik’s hips and dropped back slightly, lifting his cock and staring, wide-eyed, as Erik skilfully locked them together, sliding Charles’ foreskin over the aching head of his own erection. Rocking, tugging, basking in the heat of Charles’ regard, of their bodies, of the inane chatter in his mind, Erik tried to make it last. He tried to keep his own arousal at bay by thinking of things to stop it from coming but found that option blocked to him – he couldn’t think of anything but Charles, couldn’t feel anything but the heated body joined to his, the short fingernails scraping over his belly and thighs, that warm seductive voice in his mind begging him to come. The sight alone of Charles Xavier coming undone on the kitchen table right in front of him would have been stimulation enough....

He threw back his head and howled as he came. Charles cried out his name and dropped back to the wooden surface as shudder after shudder drove through him. Heart thudding in his chest, Erik separated them carefully, reached down to collect Charles into his arms and lifted him, holding him tight and close. They were too hot for it really, too sweaty and sticky but Erik didn’t care. 

_No one’s ever..._ was as far as he got before Charles was kissing him, calming him, telling him without pride something along the lines of I know, _of course I know, and the honour is mine._ It wasn’t exactly right but it was the closest Erik could get in translation. 

“We should take this somewhere more comfortable,” Charles suggested before Erik could even assume that the best part of the night was over. Clearly Charles had other ideas. His cock was still half-erect, thick and dark, and Erik felt an overwhelming desire to put it in his mouth, to suck on it until it hardened fully again, until its smooth pink head was resting against the back of his throat.

Charles shivered. “Christ, Erik....” He realised Charles could see everything then, that he must have been projecting it as surely as if he were watching a movie. “Bedroom. Now.”

They left the mess – from Charles’ cocktail hour and the impromptu sex – and half-walked, half-ran naked through the empty halls of the mansion, up the creaking stairs, Erik grabbing Charles’ hand at one point and Charles leading the way to his bedroom.

Erik barely had a chance to admire the first impressions of a big room decorated in muted blues and dark woods before Charles was dragging him onto a magnificent four-poster bed and distracting him by playing with his balls.

“Do that for much longer,” Erik warned him between aborted kisses, “and it’ll be over for a second time.”

Charles laughed. “In that case, I want you to fuck me.”

The request set a flame of desire alight inside Erik’s stomach and he lifted himself up onto his elbows, looking Charles in the eye, trying to read his mind. “Are you sure?”

He felt Charles’ assertion that he was completely certain. 

“You’ve never done this before.” It was something he was almost positive of.

“There has to be a first time.”

Erik knew he’d be lying to them both if he said he didn’t want to, so he reached between them, gently prized Charles’ fingers from his genitals and lifted his arm, using one hand to grasp both his narrow wrists, pinning them to the covers above his head, glancing around speculatively for any metal and finding none.

 _You don’t have to restrain me, my friend._ The endearment filled him with warmth while at the same time not touching now the deep-seated feelings that were building for this man, the well of need and want that had opened up inside him and was threatening to overflow. _My darling,_ Charles tried again with a hint of amusement, then before Erik could protest, my lover.

Almost overwhelmed, Erik too tried for humour. “What if I wanted to restrain you?”

“I’m certain that somewhere in the house there is a bedroom with a metal bedstead, but could that wait until tomorrow? I don’t think I can hold on until we find it.”

Erik laughed before sealing his parted lips over Charles’ and licking his tongue into his mouth. At the same time, he stroked an open hand down over Charles’ body laid out beneath him, over his tight stomach and sharp hips, combing his fingers through soft pubic hair until he reached hard thighs. He lifted one and pushed it to one side in order to get a hand under Charles’ ass.

He teased for a while, running light finger tips along his crack, between his cheeks, up and down, moving slowly, going a little deep each time. Then he brought his fingers to their mouths and Charles lavished them with his tongue, Erik doing the same, uniquely turned on by something so simple. 

“It might hurt, Charles,” he warned, voice smoky.

“I don’t care. Please....”

He nodded once and returned his hand to Charles’ ass, pressing one long finger slowly through the tight ring of muscle to slide inside Charles’ body. He could feel the pressure, imagine it around his cock and was thankful that Charles was in his head to stop him from coming.

_Sorry, but I want this._

“Nothing to apologise for,” he managed, and before Charles was ready he pressed in a second digit. Charles’ whole body stiffened and he paused. “Relax. Breathe. This is nothing compared with how it’s going to feel when I’m inside you.”

He thought – although he might have imagined it – he heard Charles whimper, just once, just softly, and the sound pushed him closer to a premature climax. He took a deep breath and started a slow finger-fuck, pushing in until his knuckles prevented him from going further, pulling out until just the tips were surrounded by strong muscle. He added a third and Charles cried out and bucked upwards, trying instinctively to lift up off the penetration. But Erik followed him, went as deep as he could and stayed there until Charles relaxed down again and at that moment he twisted his fingers. Charles’ cock had been wilting with the strange pressure but now it was filling again and Erik could feel the bones in Charles’ wrists as he twisted in his grasp.

He let go, and instantly Charles’ reached for Erik but stopped himself short and instead went for clawing the bedding. Pride filled him, and something else, something stronger, something he didn’t want to think about it. He slid his fingers free and shifted to his knees, spitting into his palm, wetting his erection as he directed Charles to lift and bend his legs.

Lying over his beautiful body glistening with sweat, panting with every breath, Erik leaned down to kiss Charles with unexpected tenderness moments before he breached him, blunt and unforgiving. Charles hooked his legs around Erik’s waist, drawing him deeper inside and further down on top of him, hands reaching for his arms, his shoulders, anywhere he could touch.

Holding himself up and not wavering from Charles’ gaze, Erik moved slowly, going as deep as he was able with every thrust, watching - memorizing – every nuance of Charles’ shifting expressions. Everything else was gone from his mind; there was nothing except for the man he was making love to, the man giving up his body to him. 

He could feel Charles’ erection between them, sliding and dragging against his belly. It was perfect. Charles was perfect, begging breathlessly, meaningless words tumbling from his lips as a constant, persistent pull sang in his mind. He was beautiful, classical, passionate. He was everything Erik had never known he’d wanted until now.

_GodOhGodOhGodErik...._

He felt Charles’ sudden, violent orgasm come from nowhere and almost tear him in two. He felt it in his head, on his skin, heard it, tasted it and it tore his own climax from him, sunk deep in Charles’ body, not wanting to ever leave. He cried out, voice almost gone, eyes open and locked with Charles’ blue stare. And on it went, shaking him apart, over and over, aftershocks like the first release looping in his head.

_Stop!_

Charles obeyed, easing him back from it as he dropped boneless on top of his lover, Charles’ arms and legs wrapping tighter around him, holding him there, kisses pressed to his wet forehead, into his damp hair.

And there they lay, unmoving, time passing before Erik became aware of the head of his sated cock still held inside Charles’ body. He lifted himself up on trembling arms and rolled off, coming out as gently as he could with muscles turned to goo but still noting the moment of pain on Charles’ face. Charles rolled too, onto his side so that his back was pressed to Erik’s front, one of Erik’s hands still grasped tightly in his own. But he didn’t close his eyes. Instead he turned his head and regarded Erik with a look that stole his breath.

“God, Charles....” He whispered the words, something inside him twisting like overstrained metal. He knew what it was and it was terrifying.

_Don’t be scared of this._

“You don’t know me,” he whispered, “I’m not a good person.”

 _Shut up!_ “Don’t say that. I know what you’ve done, Erik. Everything you’ve done. I don’t care.”

“What about the things I will do?”

Charles didn’t answer, just reached up and brought their open mouths together again. It was a long kiss and there was nothing innocent or naive in it, just the truth.

They settled for a while then, not really sleeping but resting together. Charles was warm and close and Erik felt more at ease than he could remember ever feeling. He stroked Charles’s skin in long, lazy movements, his hand eventually reaching his ass, catching some of the sticky mess seeping from inside. 

Intense arousal suddenly caught inside him, setting every nerve alight again. He dropped his forehead to Charles’ hot shoulder and moaned softly, but he couldn’t help himself. Gently he pushed Charles’ top leg up, bending his knee and tipping him forward. He didn’t encounter resistance, but as he nudged at the ring of muscle he momentarily felt the soreness Charles was feeling.

“Trust me,” he murmured in response, and pressed his thumb very gently inside, feeling the wet remnants of his orgasm against his skin. He relaxed, kissing Charles’ shoulder until he felt him let go, muscles going limp.

Erik day dreamed for a time, envisioning them together all over the house – short scenes of desperate fucking and lazy love-making, out in the open where they could so easily been seen and hidden behind closed doors, locked away from the rest of the world.

He played out each fantasy in his head up until the moment of orgasm before cutting away deliberately to the next one. On top of the kitchen table with the door wide open, buried balls-deep in Charles’ body. Bathing in one of the opulent bathrooms, the water hot, stroking Charles’ cock languidly as he lay against Erik’s chest. Up against the wooden panels in an empty corridor, Erik on his knees with Charles filling his mouth and throat. Lying out on the lawn on a summer’s day, Charles on his stomach, Erik between his parted legs, face buried in Charles’ ass.

_FUCK Erik!_

He moved his free hand over Charles’ hip, meeting his erection with light fingers.

“Hard again so soon?” he teased gently, Charles’ response as obscene as the thumb stuck up his ass. “Why don’t you let me see to that?”

He shifted and turned as Charles rolled obligingly onto his back for him to straddle his face, lowering himself until the tip of his cock pressed against Charles’ lips and slipped into his open throat. He couldn’t hold back the moan of pleasure as Charles started to suck on him, but settled himself on top and took Charles’ cock into his own mouth, letting the weight of it settle on his tongue before he started to lift and lower his head, gently twisting his thumb until he bumped Charles’ prostate and the body beneath him jerked, a muffled yell vibrating around his erection.

He rose to his knees and Charles’ head followed him, one arm wrapping over his thigh. He wasn’t surprised to feel wet fingers between his own buttocks, digits working their way inside him, one at a time until there were three slender fingers holding him open, fucking him indulgently. Charles was in his head the whole time but there was an addition to his presence now alongside all the other sensations and emotions; an intensity Erik couldn’t really identify or translate, submission, dominance, a need for something. It was sexy as hell and he would get out of Charles exactly what it was once he was able to think again.

But his third orgasm of the night was near, he could feel it in his toes, curling in his stomach, could sense Charles’ building climax in his mind. Fingernails scraped a jagged path down his back, over his ass into the crease of his thighs. There was a gentle pull on his balls and he came, unloading down Charles’ throat, triggering Charles to do the same to him, spilling into his mouth as he instinctively lifted his head but stopped himself in time to swallow.

He slid from Charles, who didn’t move except to momentarily lift his head and smile down at him. He hated to bring up such a base subject at such an incredible moment, but he really had little choice.

Directly across the hall.

Erik glared at him. “No en-suite?”

_Sorry. We should possibly use my parents’ old room next time._

Rising from the bed, stealing a kiss before padding across the room, he opened the door and boldly crossed the corridor without a care. He was already certain someone must have heard them; that the kids already knew what was going on, they had hardly been quiet. 

He relieved himself, cleaned up quickly and took a warm wet facecloth back with him to Charles’ room, climbing onto the bed and slapping Charles’ ass to get him to turn over onto his front.

He was almost asleep, but he moved, spread his legs at Erik’s request and sighed softly as the warm cloth was pressed against his abused hole. Erik held it there for a minute before dropping it over the side of the bed and unable to resist, bent double and held Charles’ cheeks apart to drop a kiss to the reddish ring of muscle.

_Erik...._

It was half-encouraging, half-pleading.

_Another time._

Charles sighed again, and Erik knew moments later when he finally fell asleep. He lay down on his side next to Charles, kissed his shoulder and closed his eyes. His body was exhausted, his mind clear and for once at peace. Sleep came easily and he didn’t dream.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [Published Fiction](http://www.madeleine-marsh.com/)


End file.
